


incorrect history

by karennninas



Series: the 80s, including but not limited to: quiet disaster, internalised homophobia, and so much more! [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom, i mean technically it's apocalypse but
Genre: ?????there are none, Gen, M/M, it's 1 in the morning this is an unedited disaster pls validate me w comments anyways, just validate me pl, like rly rly post like 1 week post-apocalypse, maybe ill make this a series hmmmmmmmmm like a series full of 80s disaster fic, ok actual tags now, ok well it's post apocalypse (like the movie not an actual apocalypse)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karennninas/pseuds/karennninas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>about a week after the school is rebuilt, things resume as per normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	incorrect history

**Author's Note:**

> it's 1:49 in the morning right now and this is only kind of edited, so read with mercy 
> 
> that said, im not kidding comments fuel my existence so WRITE THEM pls
> 
> -there's a mention of nazis in one sentence. it's minor, but i can see how any mention can make ppl feel Not Ok-
> 
> OK THERES A FREAKY NOISE COMING FROM DOWNSTAIRS SO IMMA POST THIS AND TAKE SOME Z-QUIL OK OK

The Mutant Rights movement began in 1962. It was sparked by Charles Xavier-- the professor. Him, Magneto, and the original X-Men. Everyone at Xavier’s school knew that part. It was the gossipy history that travelled in rumours every time a kid thought they “uncovered” something new. Everyone also knew how Magneto had gone rogue and tried to kill the professor. (Some of the kids even thought he was right about mutant supremacy, but they never said it). 

 

Professor Xavier always defended him, though. _He isn’t quite the monster that you seem to think._ Professor Xavier even kept the old room open, in case Magneto ( _Erik_ ) wanted to come back. 

 

Everyone knew that he’d told Jean. The professor had an _actual secret_ \-- not even a secret, but just a _bit_ of information-- about Magneto, and he’d told it to Jean. All because Jean was “special”, like him. (Or, that’s what everyone said). 

 

The “secret” was mere history. Charles had told Jean because she was the only one who’d ever actually bothered to ask.

 

That’s how Jean knew, after the battle, not to be as afraid of him. She didn’t necessarily _like_ him, but she didn’t look down when she saw him in a hallway like everyone else did, and she didn’t flinch whenever he spoke up. 

 

She could see glimpses of his mind-- another thing that made her perception of him differ from every other student’s. She could feel the-- the _bursts_ of hope he felt every time Charles spoke to him. The annoyance he felt when students looked at him with nothing but fear in their eyes. The pain that engulfed him, constantly. Jean used to not understand why Charles defended him. Why he sympathized with such hatred. But, after being around Erik for less than a week, she knew. The hatred was backed by pain-- daresay, it was _justified_. 

 

( _“Jean, there’s no secret.”_

 

_“You’re lying.”_

 

_“I’m not. It’s-- it’s information. Things that you’d only know if you’d known him.”_

 

_“Then tell me.”_

 

_“First of all, his name isn’t_ Magneto _. His name is Erik.”_

 

_“Okay.”_

 

_“His parents were killed in a Nazi concentration camp, and he was tortured for most of his adolescence.”_

 

_Silence._

 

_“I met him in 1962, he was my best friend. He helped me build this school. He helped me teach the first class.”_

 

_Silence._

 

_“When he left the school, I hated him. When I thought he killed the president, I hated him even more.”_

 

_More silence._

 

_“But, he’s more afraid than any of us will ever know. He’s known more suffering than any of us could ever fathom.”)_

 

Charles had warned her not to try to read Erik’s mind. He’d told her that Erik knew what it felt like, and he’d catch her. She hadn’t listened and she was well aware of that, so she wasn’t all that surprised when she was cornered by a former super-villain in an algebra classroom. It was bound to happen at some point, right? 

 

“You thought I wouldn’t feel you snooping around in there?” He pointed at his head. He wasn’t _angry_ , per say; he was just vaguely unhappy. It was kind of comforting. “What exactly were you looking to find?” 

 

Jean (backed against the chalkboard and a little bit terrified for the first time in five days) found her voice again and spoke, faking calm and attempting humour. “Evidence that you weren’t biding your time till you blow up the school again.” 

 

Erik’s face fell. He still didn’t look mad. “I didn’t blow up the school in the first place.” 

 

So, attempting humour didn’t work. That didn’t mean that she’d stop, though. “I know. That’s what I found out while I was _snooping around_.” She cracked the fainted smile she could. 

 

Erik backed away from her and sat on a desk, giving her room to slouch against the chalkboard and not fear for her life. “What else did you find out?”

 

She shrugged. “Not much. Emotions, mostly.”

 

“That’s never good.” He matched her ghost smile. “Anything interesting?”

 

“You like being around the professor; I get these bursts of happiness whenever he talks to you.” She grinned (although tentatively), like that was some kind of secret only she knew. “You don’t like that everyone’s afraid of you. And-- you lost someone. Recently, I mean.” Her smile faded as quickly as his.

 

“My wife. And my daughter.” Jean didn’t get any bursts of pain after his answer. She only _barely_ got the icy numbness that surrounded the words.

 

“I’m very sorry.” She remembered the sentence she’d intercepted before the school exploded. _12 dead police officers, along with the bodies of his wife and daughter_.And then she’d felt her own heart drop as she guessed the professor’s did. 

 

“Don’t look so apologetic; you didn’t kill them. Anything else?”

 

“Yeah-- there’s this-- I never asked the professor, because it’s inappropriate to ask your teacher if-- were you--”

 

“In love, when we first met each other?”

 

“You mind answering? Since you’re not my teacher, and in a few days, you’re never gonna see me again?”

 

“The sixties were a very different time from the one in which you’re growing up.”

 

“I know that.” She slid down the wall and sat on the floor, evidently ready to listen. 

 

“Yes. I do mind answering.” 

 

“And here, I thought I was gonna get a whole story about forbidden mutant love in 1962. I was gonna write a screenplay.” She looked up at him feeling confident, since she’d been able to crack jokes with _Magneto_ without getting a thumbtack through the esophagus. “He loved you back?”

 

“You should go, now. I have actual things to _do_ today,” he said (almost playfully but not quite), standing up and reaching out a hand to help her up. “But there’s one you didn’t tell me.”

 

She looked at him, confused. 

 

“An emotion you picked up.”

 

“Hope. Love. Passion. All mixed together. Hit me like a freakin’ cannon the other day when you were walking with the professor in the courtyard.”

 

Erik nodded.

 

Jean sighed and grabbed his arm as he was leaving. “Between you ‘n’ me, pal: if I had someone in my life who makes me as happy as professor Xavier makes you, I wouldn’t be jumping up and down to leave and never see them again. Try taking your time.”

 

**

 

“Erik told me about your conversation yesterday.” 

 

Professor Xavier’s office was considerably scarier when Jean was in trouble. Maybe that was just the bald head throwing her off. The office was definitely less inviting when he was annoyed, though. That was for sure.

 

“I know, I’m--”

 

“Jean, I _told_ you not to read his mind.” Definitely annoyed. Definitely in trouble. And, oh, how she’d have liked to be anywhere but there at that moment. 

 

“I can’t really help it. Not when his emotions are ten times louder than everyone else’s. It’s like... the door explodes open and all I have to do is walk in.” 

 

“You know I can hear you thinking about my hair in there, right?” 

 

She instantly eased up with the joke. Sure, he was still upset, but at least he was fuming. “I think you mean _lack thereof_ , sir.” 

 

“That’s not funny-- Jean, you can’t go asking people these things. I understand if thoughts are too loud to ignore, but, at least with _him_ , you can’t go and ask point blank about someone’s personal life. _Especially_ if it has to do with me, but that’s more about personal embarrassment than anything else.” He cracked a little smile, but it was nothing compared to the obvious annoyance. 

 

“He wasn’t mad.” 

 

“I’d be a lousy mindreader if I didn’t know that.”

 

“Well--”

 

“Don’t you dare say it.”

 

“He _wasn’t mad_. A little, at first, and then he wasn’t at all. I swear. I swear on your mind-reading skills, professor--” 

 

“For the love of God, Jean, you can go, I won’t punish you,” Charles said, finally giving into the grin he’d been suppressing. “Just try to watch whose head you wander into. They won’t all be as understanding as Erik,” he called as she walked out of the office. 

 

“Will do, sir!” 

 

***

 

( _“Don’t go. Erik, please don’t leave.”_

 

_“So you_ do _care whether I stay or go? Why, I had no idea, especially since you’ve told me six times already.”_

 

_“Funny.”_

 

_“I can’t stay here. You know that. Besides, your kids haven’t slept a good night since I’ve gotten here. They’re all afraid.”_

 

_“They don’t have to be. You could teach. How To Become A Serial Killer 101.”_

 

_“I thought the goal was for them to be less afraid of me.”_

 

_“Art history, then. You and me can stay here--”_

 

_“Grow old together, be in love for the rest of our days--”_

 

_“No more fighting. Just me and you and a school full of kids.”_

 

_“It’s a nice thought.”_

 

_“Yeah.”_ )


End file.
